


Guilt and Passion

by Artrix



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon), 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Anal Sex, Blood Drinking, Canon-Typical Violence, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:33:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23041036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artrix/pseuds/Artrix
Summary: Trevor regrets leaving Alucard alone after Dracula’s defeat and returns to find him suffering at the hands of another Hunter. Liberation brings revelation and they come to terms with their feelings for each other.[Request] [No S3 Spoilers]
Relationships: Alucard | Adrian Tepes | Arikado Genya/Trevor Belmont
Comments: 18
Kudos: 637





	Guilt and Passion

**Author's Note:**

> I am sorry for being gone for so long; I haven't had as much time as I wanted to dedicate to writing, but I still love Castlevania and writing fanfiction and I don't intend to stop. Most of my the requests I received were from so long ago that I don't know if anyone is still interested in them; many of them were pre-season 2 and while I would still like to go through all of them, I'm worried that some of the requests may no longer be desired or work with canon. For now, I am going to pick and choose some and write when I can. Thank you all for reading and being so patient with me! This has no spoilers for Season 3. As always, if anyone has any requests, please send them my way. I can't promise I will be able to do it but I will always try my hardest. I am a little rusty, but I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> Request: May I request some Trevor x Alucard? Something like Trevor and Sypha visit Alucard in the castle only to find it being pillaged and Alucard at another hunter's mercy?
> 
> Warning: Nothing is explicitly stated but it can be inferred that torture may have included sexual assault if you choose to read it that way.

Traveling with Sypha was always an interesting experience. When Trevor was on his own, time couldn't pass fast enough. A single day could feel like weeks. Nights could feel like years. And yet, in this little wagon with her, months passed by in moments. It was more than just the missions they took on, more than just the people they were helping. Something about her spirit was rejuvenating. She had a purity about her, where she saw the world in a way he knew he never would.

She was ignorant, of so many things, but he found that endearing. She could insult him, could chastise him, for all his boorish vulgarity and cynicism, but she saw the light and he saw the dark. Somehow, they met in the middle--a paradox that just _worked_.

Maybe that was how he lost track of time.

He hadn't counted how many monsters they'd destroyed, or how many days it had been since Dracula's demise. It wasn't until the leaves were falling from the trees and the smell of cold, crisp autumn fell upon them one morning that it even processed that it had been _months_.

Months on the road. Months, with Sypha.

Months without Alucard.

Trevor didn't talk about the dhampir as much as Sypha did. She often wondered aloud what he was doing, mentioned that they should visit him.

Trevor worked hard not to seem too enthusiastic, but his gruff countenance had been so convincing that he'd even convinced himself that he wasn't in any rush to see Alucard again.

Their parting had been quick, but it needed to be. Trevor hadn't wanted to leave him there in that castle, alone, but he understood needing time to grieve. He'd spent most of his life grieving the family he'd lost.

He'd only wanted Alucard to have a few weeks to sort things out.

It wasn't supposed to be like this.

It had rained last night; the smell of wet earth and old fire lingered in the air when he sat up and pushed the old blanket from atop of him. He'd slept in the wagon with Sypha curled up to his back for warmth. She'd spent herself yesterday. Too much magic with little time to recover meant that she'd probably sleep for another hour or two. Trevor was tempted to try and get the fire going again, but with the logs as wet as they were he doubted he'd have any success--and Sypha was the only one with power to burn _anything_.

No, Trevor would go hungry for now. At least that would explain the writhing pain deep in his gut. 

He was used to following his intuition. It had kept him alive so far, but now something was _gnawing_ at him.

His head was swimming with thoughts and he reached up a calloused hand to brush through his tangled locks, shaking his head forcefully to try and make some sense. He threw his legs over the side of the carriage and planted his feet firmly in the wet mud. He was unstable and steadied himself on the side of the carriage, closing his eyes and rubbing at his temple as he tried to force himself to wake up.

Golden eyes flashed into his mind, only for an instant.

His stomach felt like someone had reached in and grabbed a fistfull of entrails.

It wasn't the first time he'd awakened to thoughts of Alucard. No matter how he tried to deny it, he thought of him too often.

Thought of the last time he'd seen him. The shell of a smile plastered onto his face. Trevor could see through the lie, but he'd accepted it. He'd let Alucard lie to him, to Sypha, maybe even to himself. He wasn't all right.

But Trevor had pretended like if he'd given himself enough time, enough space, Alucard would heal. Trevor wouldn't have to watch him at his most vulnerable. Wouldn't have been tempted to _feel_ for him.

He wasn't a cruel man, not by any means.

He just hadn't forgotten what it was like to lose someone.

He cared about Sypha, of course. He wouldn't have traveled with her for so long if he hadn't.

He just didn't dream about her the way he dreamed about Alucard.

-

Convincing Sypha that they should take some time to themselves hadn't even been difficult. She'd awakened when the sun had just peaked over the trees and Trevor had tempted her with the idea of resting in a nice bed. There were many that wouldn't hesitate to call him a foolish man, but he played his cards carefully.

Trevor wasn't stupid. Sometimes.

He'd reminisced about home, about family.

It wasn't long before Sypha had that longing look on her face. She puffed her cheeks just slightly and planted her chin in the palms of her hands while she hunched over the fire. She openly lamented missing the Speakers--something Trevor had anticipated. Sypha was telling stories about them--stories he'd heard before, but that he let her tell again because they made her smile.

And then, he'd tempted her with making new memories.

They could backtrack, see where the Speakers were.

She had fallen in love with the idea in a matter of seconds and lit up with ideas and suggestions, spewing her own plans eagerly.

Trevor agreed; he didn't care where they went as long as it was back towards the castle. Only, he couldn't say it. He'd planned a hundred different lines for how to lead into it, how to make the suggestion. He never found an opening.

He couldn't just come out and say it, either. How do you word something like that? ' _Oh, by the way. I've been thinking about Alucard a lot. I think we should go see him._ '

It didn't make sense, it would never work. He'd never hear the end of it. And what did he care, anyway?

His stomach churned at the lie, but he kept telling himself he didn't care.

-

Trevor wasn't a sentimental man, he hadn't ever been. He'd forgotten how to open up, forgotten how to shed the callous layers he'd built up to protect himself from the world. They'd found the Speakers two hours outside of where Dracula's Castle lingered. Go figure; the castle was a beacon for dark creatures, and in those times the people called upon the Speakers for guidance.

Trevor left Sypha with them, with the claim that he was going to investigate the forest. He let Sypha 'convince' him to investigate the castle. She promised to follow soon--only, there were people in town that needed help, and her grandfather was sick from fatigue so she intended to stay and support him for a bit.

He wanted her to think this was all her idea, wanted to be able to blame her for the trouble of going to see Alucard.

Wanted to pretend like it wasn't the guilt gnawing at him for being gone for so long. For dreaming of him. For _missing_ him.

Trevor had all but run to the castle once he was out of the city limits and out of sight. It wasn't difficult to track the castle; it's spires peaked into the sky. A darkness had fallen over the land--not enough to make him really worry, but enough to remind him that Dracula's evil still lingered.

He knew something was wrong as soon as he saw the castle.

The great gates were open--something that might not have been a problem generally, except the doors were blasted across the grass, yards away from where they had once been firmly fashioned. Trevor's hand shot to the whip at his side and he slowed, now on high alert.

The past half hour he'd spent fantasizing about the perfect quip to greet Alucard with vanished instantly.

The castle was still--eerily so. The hair on the back of his neck stood up.

Something was wrong.

He crept into the castle with more caution than he'd taken when he and Sypha and Alucard had breached it the first time. He kept to the shadows, barely even able to appreciate what efforts someone had taken to clean the place up. Not that it had mattered; there was damage he knew they hadn't made.

The bannister was broken and huge chunks of the railing had settled on the floor. A tapestry had claw marks too high up to have been made by a human.

A portrait of Lisa Tepes had three daggers sticking out of it, and her husband's face had been burned clean off.

Trevor heard a scream from upstairs--a soft, mangled noise of discomfort rather more so than a shriek of terror. Slowly, silently, he unsheathed his sword as he crept up the stairs.

There was blood on the wall, old and dry. Something Alucard would have cleaned if it had been from their attack.

The entire castle was a maze and even this stairwell led to a dozen dead ends. There wasn't always a sound to track and twice did Trevor have to stop and turn around when he realized the noises sometimes seemed further away.

Maybe it took a minute. Maybe it took an hour.

Maybe it didn't matter, because either one was too fucking long.

Trevor isolated the source of the sound and realized it was coming from what must have been a guest room. He could smell blood in the air.

One of two things was happening behind the closed door: Alucard was hurting someone, or someone was hurting Alucard.

He could hear the sound of movement, could hear pained grunts and shallow breathing. The sound of metal against flesh, and stone.

His heart was pounding in his chest; he gripped the Morning Star in one hand and his sword in another. There was a loud noise, as if of protest, from the other side--but Trevor did not heed it. He kicked open the thick wooden door, ready to shed blood.

He half suspected Alucard to have gone mad after his father's murder--to prove him right, to remind him of how stupid it was to actually think there was a worthwhile creature of darkness worth fighting for. Worth falling for. Prove him wrong, let him be rid of these dreams.

 _Free him_ from the dhampir's spell.

Show him the monster he truly was.

The monster, gagged with balled up fabric jammed so deeply into his mouth that his fangs protruded and left nothing else visible. The monster, naked, covered in welts and bruises and lacerations. The _monster_ , with silver blades shoved into his wrists, his chest, his stomach, wrists and ankles shackled to the bedposts. The sheets were soaked in blood--his own.

Trevor was trained to fight monsters, to be prepared for the worst of them.

Of course it would have been a fucking human.

A rustling from across the room tore his gaze from Alucard's battered body to instead focus on a leather-clad man that outmatched him in size and steel. 

There was no easy way to identify one hunter from another; Trevor wore his family crest.

This man just stank of death.

The unwelcome hunter growled, too enraged for words. Whatever was going on here, Trevor had disrupted it. The stranger wielded a sword easily as long as Trevor's leg--and worse, he wielded it with ease. Trevor had the advange of surprise, and speed, and the fact that he was a fucking _Belmont_ and bred for battle certainly didn't hurt him.

It was like any other fight, except Trevor blacked out somewhere in the middle. His vision turned red, and if he'd had a rational plan it went out the window.

Like the hunter.

His shoulder was bleeding when the anger subsided; he was pressed against the wall, hovering over a broken window and looking at the splattered body of the hunter he'd been fighting a moment earlier. The battle had been quick, but Trevor hadn't just been thinking about surviving, or taking care of the threat. 

He was thinking about Alucard's horrified, empty eyes.

They weren't the eyes he'd dreamed of.

Trevor stared at the hunter on the ground for longer than he'd needed to; the threat had abated but now he was left with the task of going to Alucard. If he'd had mixed feelings before, now they were thoroughly fucked up. His hands were bleeding; shards of broken glass pricked his flesh across his open palms.

His chest was heaving, heart pounding.

Alucard was silent in the bed behind him.

His own insecurities suddenly didn't matter, all he could think about was Alucard.

Fuck it all, Trevor didn't need to say anything. He just needed to fix this.

He spun on his heels, roughly brushing the glass against the coarse fabric of his pants in a shoddy effort to remove them. It hurt.

He deserved it.

They never should have left Alucard alone. They should have expected this. Just because they'd defeated Dracula didn't make them unstoppable, didn't make them invulnerable.

Alucard wouldn't meet his gaze when he returned to the bedside.

The manacles gripped Alucard's wrists tightly; there was a key, somewhere, but Trevor couldn't focus enough to look. Alucard's wrists were raw from struggling and bruised so badly that Trevor couldn't imagine how long he'd been there for. 

He knew how quickly Alucard could heal.

"This is going to hurt," he said after a second.

It was the first time Alucard held his gaze.

Brows knit, uncertain. Accepting. Ready for it.

Trevor's stomach sank again and he shook his head. He gripped the handles of the daggers protruding from Alucard's flesh and was torn between yanking them out swiftly or dragging them slowly.

Alucard didn't appear to be breathing so he couldn't anticipate his preference. Trevor would have wanted it quick.

He yanked.

The blades were half a foot longer than he anticipated and Alucard's back arched when the half-swords were ripped from his wrists. The movement thrust him deeper onto the blade skewering his stomach to the bed. Trevor threw the two blades to the ground and braced to pull the third. "I'm sorry," he said, but he didn't hear the words. Alucard wheezed, or screamed, or wailed. He couldn't tell. It felt like claws raking against his heart.

The swords were out, though.

It was a start.

Alucard's body slumped back into the bloodied mattress weakly and Trevor could see his chest heaving erratically. The dhampir's eyes were screwed shut again and he was biting down on the cloth in his mouth. 

He was pale, his lips were chapped. He wasn't healing from the wounds but he wasn't bleeding.

"Don't bite me," he found himself saying, but he didn't know why. Alucard wouldn't have bitten him.

He curled his finger into the wet fabric and tried to unravel it, tried to loosen it without breaking Alucard's jaw in the process. He threw it to the ground when he'd finished but Alucard didn't speak immediately. His lips were parted and his eyes closed. He was visibly stiff and trying to adjust to the change.

His mouth closed slowly but his fangs didn't retreat.

The only real issue remaining was the heavy metal clamped around Alucard's limbs.

The bedframe was wood. Trevor had a sword. This wouldn't be so hard. He reached over, forcing his eyes off of Alucard's face, off of his battered body. His jaw was set firmly as he worked, tugging on the metal as if to test it.

The bed groaned against the pressure and Trevor frowned, giving the manacles a few solid tugs. After the fourth, the wood was denting. He planted one foot against the wall and pulled, as hard as he could--and the wooden beam splintered and broke.

 _Broke_.

A human like him could shatter it.

He looked at Alucard who was, not surprisingly, not looking at him.

There was a suspicion brewing in Trevor's gut and he felt his anger rising but he didn't press it. He moved to the other side of the bed and repeated the process. The posts at the foot of the bed might have been a bit more difficult if only because Trevor didn't have the wall to push against, but when he planted his foot against the bed and tugged at one of the posts, the entire frame of the bed snapped. Alucard's limp body slid from the mattress and he hissed in pain. He came to a rest by Trevor's feet but the hunter's hands were already on his shoulders as if to stop him from moving. 

"Alucard," Trevor tested; he said his name cautiously, not quite reprimanding. 

Alucard still did not look up.

There were a million questions, a million things Trevor could say. He wanted to scold him, wanted to tell him he was an idiot. 

...Wanted to patch him up, first. He looked horrible, and filthy, and like he was ready to crawl in a hole and die.

"...Did you get the water running in here again?"

It wasn't the question Alucard seemed to have anticipated, and he relaxed, albeit only faintly.

"...I did, yes. Weeks ago."

"And where can I find some of this running water?"

Alucard struggled to speak, with his puffy lips and his dry mouth. He tried to incline his head, but even that seemed to sag from the exertion.

There was a fountain in one of the floors downstairs; Trevor had passed it on the way up but hadn't thought much of it. He had been annoyed with the sound of trickling water when he was trying to listen for the sounds of life.

He regretted that his cape was long gone; he suspected he and Alucard both might have thrived with a bit more decency available to them. If he picked Alucard up, that meant manhandling him; he was already vulnerable to the stab wounds, and despite the severity of the situation, there were butterflies in Trevor's stomach when he thought of Alucard's naked body pressed against him.

Brushing the thoughts aside was difficult.

Of course he'd dreamed of this.

Just...not like this. Not with Alucard hurting, bleeding, _silent_ in his arms. Not with metal cuffs on his limbs and chains dangling loudly, a constant reminder of what he’d walked into.

Carefully, he lifted him, hoping Alucard couldn't hear his pounding heart aching with worry he couldn't figure out how to voice.

The blonde's forehead pressed into Trevor's hair; he felt the dhampir's cool skin on his own warm flesh. Alucard's breathing was shallow and Trevor, still riding the wave of adrenaline from the fight, began to carry him out of the room and down the hall. 

"Are there others?" he asked, holding his breath to try and catch any sound from Alucard's lips.

He heard the shallow breathing, and maybe the sound of lips moving, but Alucard failed to find his voice.

He was exhausted, Trevor could see that much. The dhampir's cold spread through Trevor's layers quickly and he drew the man closer.

Trevor thought, for a second, that he could feel Alucard shaking his head, but when he realized that the man's lips were pressed against his neck a moment later he had to wonder if it wasn't just Alucard moving.

Moving, to press his lips to Trevor's neck.

He felt the fangs pressed against his skin and he opened his mouth to protest but Alucard never bit him. His teeth were on him, aching for sustenance. Trevor didn't know if it was the cold or the need that had Alucard trembling in his arms but he neither encouraged nor denied him the taste of his blood.

A test of self control, then.

Alucard passed.

Trevor was halfway down two flights of stairs when he felt Alucard's teeth retreat from his neck, replaced with his icy forehead instead.

"When was the last time you ate?"

A pity that he'd thrown the hunter out of the window. He might have enjoyed watching Alucard drain him dry.

...But then, there it was again.

Thinking unreasonable thoughts about Alucard. He wouldn't support any creature of the night, much less one killing a human.

But...

He reached the fountain, and though he knew the water was cold and that this wasn't a proper bath, he carefully lowered Alucard into it. He wasn’t surprised that he hadn’t gotten an answer earlier, but it wasn’t going to stop him from tending to this task.

These weren't the injuries of a battle. They weren't even the injuries of an interrogation.

They were the injuries of torture, simple and cruel. He could see where they had started healing, probably when Alucard was still healthy. He could see the marks that had been there for a while--stagnant, not enough to kill him, but enough to maim him. Enough to make him suffer. The newer marks enraged him just as much. They were deeper, more menacing. Still not enough to kill him.

Enough to toy with him.

Hunters weren't supposed to play with their prey. They were supposed to kill them and be done with it. There were more monsters in the world, why spend so much time on one?

In his heart, Trevor knew.

It wasn't about the kill. It was about the thrill of a beautiful prisoner, a beast at your mercy.

Alucard was nearly too weak to sit up; Trevor suspected it was a combination of being physically exhausted and having stiff muscles. He held one hand to his back and crouched by the fountain.

Trevor didn't know what to say. This wasn't the meeting that he'd wanted.

He was glad he was here, though. Now, at least. He was glad he'd come alone.

Maybe Sypha would have known what to do. But then, he didn't want her to see Alucard like this.

He didn't have much to offer in the way of assisting the dhampir; he had no cloth by which to clean him, no soap, no niceties. Just cold water and his hands.

If Alucard was bothered by it, he didn't say anything. He sat stoically, eyes downcast on debris across the room. Trevor cleaned what he could, tender around each bruise and scrape. He helped Alucard back, dipping his hair in the water. He was tender, massaging the water into his scalp.

Still, even with Alucard dipped backwards, he found a way to avoid Trevor's gaze.

Pride was a difficult thing to shake. Trevor understood this.

Didn't understand much else, but he understood this.

It was difficult to clean where the iron clung to him; Trevor’s fingers grazed the metal often, trying to figure out what to do with it. It couldn’t stay on but in this whole castle, a key could have been anywhere. Could have been on the hunter outside, even. 

You didn’t live a life outcast by society without picking up a few tricks. Picking locks was not a foreign task to Trevor, though it was one he hadn’t had to rely on in some time. He fished around in the pouch at his side for a few seconds before extracting a few small tools. His hands had been trembling too much to even consider this before, but now he could focus. Now, he could take care of them.

Alucard’s eyes were closed; Trevor had one arm to steady him but managed to pick the first lock within a moment. As expected, the skin was raw and agitated. He washed the skin softly and moved to the other wrist, repeating. The ones at his ankles were last, and when he dropped the final manacle to the ground he felt like he could breathe a little easier. Tools pocketed away once more, he resumed the tender cleaning.

"Thank you," Alucard said suddenly. His voice was soft, raspy. Unused in some time, except for screams and grunts. His fangs hadn't yet retreated. He must have been starving.

Alucard had the self restraint of a saint. Any lesser being might have been begging by now. Trevor had brought no supplies; he'd traveled light. Sypha was going to meet up with them, later. He figured Alucard would have food or--worst case scenario--he might have had to hunt something in the forest.

He hadn't expected this.

He never should have left Alucard alone. Isolation had done something to him, worsened his guilt.

Trevor knew better, and yet he'd let Alucard convince them to leave, anyway.

"...You don't owe me thanks."

Alucard grunted in response, eyes closing again. "Why are you back?"

"Sypha sent me," he said. He'd already had that answer prepared. It didn't have to be the truth, it just had to sound like it.

He didn't think Alucard could look more disappointed, but his brows twitched like it wasn't the answer he'd been hoping for.

"Are you her servant, now?"

A quip, but Alucard's heart wasn't in it. It riled Trevor up enough, anyway. "I do what I want."

"Then you wanted to be here?"

Trevor was caught in his own trap. His lip curled with false outrage and he grumbled, low in his throat. "You sent us away. How'd that work out for you?"

Alucard's silence was horrible. Trevor wanted to goad him into more comebacks, into his snarkiness. Alucard gave him nothing, and it stung worse than any insult.

"...This water's cold, you need something warmer." 

Alucard nodded but seemed indifferent. Trevor could see the way he tried to push himself up to stand, the way his body protested and worked against him. Trevor hooked his arm around the man's back and did most of the work for him. When Alucard slumped against him, resting against his arm,against Trevor's chest, his heart started to pound again.

Trevor knew Alucard was weak, vulnerable.

And his heart was the same way. Only, perhaps more pathetic, because he couldn't just confess that he had come because he missed Alucard. Couldn't get him out of his head. Because he was worried about him. Because he lost track of time and felt like the worst fucking fool in the world.

They were both silent; Trevor led him upstairs once more, if only because he didn't know the layout of the castle well enough to go anywhere else. Alucard tensed at his side as they neared the hallway, as they walked down it. As they passed the room he'd been kept in. Trevor kicked open three doors until he found a dusty, albeit clean room. If ever there had been anything of value here, it had been stripped and hoarded away.

In the corner was a trunk, open and half full of gold and silver trinkets and valuables.

The hunter seemed more attuned to thievery than doing his job. Trevor's lip twitched and another wave of hatred, of repulsed rage, surged through his blood. He laid Alucard on the bed tenderly, pulling the blanket out from beneath him.

He was wet, but Trevor couldn't very easily dry him off. Alucard didn't complain; instead, he let out a soft sigh as he slid into the soft fabric. The wounds needed to be tended to but there were no supplies he could think to locate. Alucard's eyes were closed and Trevor leaned over him to draw the blankets over his bare chest.

Trevor was close to the dhampir, closer than he needed to be. Again, he felt the soft brush of fangs against his neck, silently pleading.

But Alucard wouldn't ask.

"...Take what you need," Trevor said, hovering over him.

Alucard did not bite.

"I know you haven't eaten."

"You almost sound like you care," Alucard said, in a voice so soft that Trevor wondered if Alucard could hear the soft plea in his own words.

The human side of him, begging for comfort. Begging for support. Begging for reassurance.

Trevor remembered how young Alucard was in that moment. He remembered what it was like when he lost his family, when he was hurting and alone. Remembered how desperate he was for anyone who could have given him a shred of compassion.

And he had abandoned Alucard, had _trusted_ him when he said he was okay.

Trevor cared.

Cared so much that his chest hurt, throbbed, at the idea of whatever burden Alucard was carrying silently. They hadn't known each other long enough for Trevor to justify these feelings; they'd spent more time part than they had together. And yet, the quiet conversations they'd had left an impression on him. Beyond the snark, the quips, the nagging. They had spent enough nights awake by the fire, just talking. Of nothing important. Of their most private thoughts. Of their oldest secrets. Only, sometimes it was told in riddles, hidden in metaphors.

Neither was as clever as they thought. They could barely deceive each other, much less themselves.

The silence that had passed between them was drifting into the territory of the uncomfortable and Trevor could feel Alucard's body going slack beneath him. Giving up.

"Only almost?" he countered.

A bit of hope stirred in him but Alucard still didn't bite. He was considering the words, processing them.

"I'm offering you my blood, Alucard. If you don't take it now, you might not get another chance."

Once more, Alucard didn't move--and then, the soft fluttering of lips tickled Trevor's neck. It felt like gentle kisses, but Trevor reasoned that Alucard was simply finding the vein. He tilted his head to the side, exposing his neck as best he could. 

Alucard could have easily bitten, and yet, his lips fluttered still. Goosebumps prickled along Trevor's skin. His fingers curled into the bedsheets as he hovered over Alucard, waiting. Offering.

If he closed his eyes, he could have imagined kisses. Kisses, like in his dreams. Only, with lips a little less soft than he'd imagined. He didn't even feel Alucard's teeth, at first. Where once there was a coldness, suddenly there was the slow flow of warmth. There had been no pain, only Alucard's soft suckling.

Trevor admired the control the man possessed; each suckle was the same as the last. If Trevor had been starving, he might have shoved his mouth full of meat with reckless abandon, taking too much at once. Choking on it, probably. And yet Alucard, poised and graceful as always, took one sip at a time.

Almost like he was savoring the flavor, enjoying it.

Minutes passed. Trevor's fingers were tangled in the sheets, only the more Alucard drank, the closer he got. It was too much effort to keep himself propped up, and it didn't take long before he had lowered himself, chest to chest with Alucard. He had to be careful of the man's injuries, but Alucard showed no discomfort at the closeness, or the slight weight Trevor brought upon him.

Trevor exhaled as the sensation of pleasure washed down his spine. Maybe it was the cathartic response to losing too much blood. To sleep threatening to claim him. A rest without nightmares would have been welcome, but a bloodletting would have left him weak and defenseless.

Alucard made a sound that sounded like he was protesting--or enjoying himself. It was as much a moan as it was a sigh. Trevor didn't understand the noise, but he figured that Alucard had finished his meal. His teeth finally retracted but neither moved.

"...I can't take more from you," Alucard said softly.

"Do you need more?"

"This will do. Thank you."

Trevor nodded; he was tired but he needed to get up. He needed to bandage the injuries. He stayed close for a few seconds longer, his chest pressed against Alucard's still. This time, he could have sworn he could have felt a heart pounding in Alucard's ribcage. It was reassuring and the beats quickly paired with the pounding of his own heart. 

It was a struggle to push himself up; Alucard felt warm again, and his heart was a soft lullaby, soothing Trevor into an almost dreamlike trance. When Trevor looked at him, he had color in his cheeks. What skin was exposed on his chest looked healed--at least, to some degree. Trevor peeled back the blankets, eyes roaming Alucard's chest.

There were marks, agitated and stark against his pale skin, but the Belmont's blood had worked better than he could have hoped. There was magic in his veins, even if he didn't understand it. Even if he didn't know how to tap into it.

Alucard could, apparently. A healthy flush covered his cheeks but his eyes, half lidded, followed Trevor's face. He watched closely as the hunter's gaze roamed across his chest approvingly. When Trevor nodded, he looked up and met Alucard's stare.

There was silence between them but this time it wasn't uncomfortable.

"You look better," Trevor said. 

"You look worse."

A little grin cracked upon his features. "No fault of my own. You took too much."

Alucard faltered, trying to determine if it was a jest or if Trevor was chastising him. Before he could even think to apologize, Trevor interrupted, "Let me lay down here."

There was enough room on the bed, and though Alucard did not make an effort to move over, Trevor sat on the edge of it and kicked off his boots, fumbling with the unnecessary accessories still strapped to him.

"...Have you had other break ins? Should I be worried about another hunter, or backup?"

"No," Alucard answered. "...There has only been one."

Trevor nodded. "Do you mean to tell me you were bested by a lone hunter? How did he get the upper hand?"

Alucard didn't answer, but Trevor hadn't expected him to. His belts were off, his mantle discarded. His weapons were on the floor but within reach. He peeled back the blankets, pulling them over himself as he collapsed onto the pillows next to Alucard.

"You could have taken him," he said, wriggling as he tried to get comfortable. His body felt so heavy. Alucard did not protest. Trevor offered him a few long seconds of silence to respond but when he didn't, he pressed, "You could have broken those bonds."

Again, Alucard did not speak. He did not deny it.

Trevor knew why.

He lay under the blankets, staring up at the ceiling and listening to Alucard's soft breathing. Finally, Trevor rolled his head just slightly so he could see the dhampir's face a little better.

"You didn't deserve that."

Alucard did not look at him, as expected. He watched the man’s brows knit, with guilt. Like a child who had been caught in a lie.

There was no response, and Trevor wished he knew the words Sypha did. He wished he had her tenderness, her comfort. He was gruff and harsh and blunt, and even he could see that Alucard had already had quite enough gruff, harsh, bluntness.

“Tell me you understand that,” he demanded, as gentle as he could manage.

Still, nothing, for too long. Alucard closed his eyes and Trevor, for a moment, was convinced he might be trying to feign sleep. Alucard only found the courage to speak when he could not see Trevor, it seemed.

“You do not understand, Trevor. You never will.”

It was progress, of some kind. “Try me.”

“I feel a weight upon my chest that crushes me. There were days I could not get out of bed. I felt smothered, I felt choked.”

“You felt guilt.”

“I killed him.”

“He was a monster,” Trevor insisted; he had felt no shame, no grief, for the man who would have killed all of humanity.

“He was hurting.”

“He would have hurt others. He hurt you.”

Alucard’s brows furrowed deeper; he knew these things, and yet his guilt drowned out all rationale. Trevor continued, “He wanted to die, Alucard. It was time to go. You can’t live that long and not go mad, somehow. He was a monster before your mother, and he was a monster after. She was the only thing that made him a _person_ again.”

“And what of me?” Alucard’s eyes opened, golden eyes finally fixating on him as he turned to look at him. “When I get so old, will I be like that? Will I lose everything I care about, and will I turn into the same monster he was?”

“No,” Trevor scoffed. “You’re different. You’re like her.”

“She never killed someone. Much less family.”

“No, she saved them. Just like _you_ saved Wallachia. The world, maybe.”

“Then why do I feel so _bad_? Why do I feel so _alone_?”

“Because I shouldn’t have left you and I _knew_ it!” Trevor finally spat. “We should have stayed, I should have been here for you!”

“Why?” Alucard demanded.

“Because you’re important! Because I can’t get you out of my head, because I’ve been thinking about you since I left.”

Alucard did not take much time to consider this time, despite how deeply he looked at Trevor; he reached out and gripped the front of his shirt. He yanked Trevor with a superhuman force, with more strength than any man should have.

Their lips crashed together and at first Trevor wasn’t sure it was intentional, until Alucard didn’t move away. He parted his lips, at first in protest, and then in weakness. In desire. 

He had no will to resist Alucard. For a moment, he didn’t even know if he was awake or dreaming--he _had_ been awfully tired.

...But Alucard opened his mouth, and Trevor wasn’t sure whose tongue went where for a moment. Alucard drew away before either had enough time to explore.

“Touch me,” he demanded, still gripping the front of Trevor’s shirt tightly.

“What?” the hunter sputtered.

“I want your hands on me. Just yours. Or do you think me repulsive?”

It was a loaded question, all of it was loaded.

If he denied Alucard, he would go back to thinking there was something wrong with him. He’d be left with only whatever memories of the _last_ hunter who laid hands on him. He’d tell himself he didn’t deserve to be wanted, to be loved. 

Though, Alucard was injured, and if Trevor hurt him he wouldn’t forgive himself.

...But, Hell. Who was he kidding, how could he deny Alucard and throw away this opportunity? How could he say no when he _wanted_ it so badly? When _Alucard_ wanted it so badly?

His hand went first to Alucard’s arm, pushing away the hand that gripped him so tightly. If Alucard had thought he was being rejected, he didn’t have time to react to it. Trevor moved to straddle him, mindful of the injuries that were still in partial healing. One hand on his chest. One hand on his neck. “Even when I first laid eyes on you, I didn’t think you repulsive.”

His voice was gruff, husky. Alucard shivered beneath him, and Trevor wondered if he had any idea what emotions he had unleashed on the hunter.

“Then _touch_ me,” Alucard commanded. Plead.

Maybe he wasn’t asking for sex, but Trevor didn’t know any touch but the flesh. It had been too long since he had given or received comfort. His fingers trailed over the man’s neck. He grazed his ear lobe, his jaw, traced his thumb over his lips.

They parted again when Alucard inhaled, eyes fluttering shut for a second.

Trevor’s other hand charted a different course: chest to shoulder, down his arm. Back to his side. Over his sculpted hips, his smooth stomach. Alucard was squirming, perhaps trying to lose himself in the sensations. He might not have known anything but pain for the last...

Trevor didn’t know how long. It could have been days, weeks, months. Any of it was too long. He wasn’t resting his full weight on Alucard; he may have been healed but he didn’t want to risk any damage. Instead, most of Trevor’s weight remained on his knees and they dug into the bedding, trapping Alucard beneath him. Trevor was off balance, he could have been pushed away at any point in time.

Instead, Alucard wriggled beneath him, pushing _closer_.

Trevor dipped his head down even as Alucard was raising both of his hands, fingers tangling in the Hunter’s hair. 

They kissed again, this time without hesitation. Trevor could feel the blood in his face as he tried to mentally wade through reality and dream. Alucard’s fingers caressed his scalp, urging him closer. He made a _noise_ that sent shivers down Trevor’s spine.

Alucard _moaned_.

Trevor’s hands roamed more, suddenly eager to explore every inch of him. He had seen him naked, but it hadn’t been the proper time to admire him. He’d seen him shirtless often enough, caressed the curves and smoothness with his eyes.

With his hands, the sensations were even sweeter.

He kept one hand above Alucard’s shoulders, alternating between stroking his neck, tugging at his earlobe, teasing his hair. His other hand was free to roam. He managed to flick one nipple and when he felt Alucard’s back arch into the touch, he rolled it, moving from one to the other and back again.

His hands were busy but he wanted to feel _more_.

The sudden pressure of Alucard’s erection against his groin wasn’t the ‘more’ he was expecting to feel, but it was more than welcome. He sank a bit more of his weight against him, feeding against the sensation, embracing his own stirring.

He wanted Alucard. Wanted to make him feel _good_. Wanted to make him forget any other touch.

They stayed connected like that, letting the pressure and lust build until Trevor could stand it no more. He had to move first, had to lift himself off of Alucard, who let out what was unmistakably a whine.

Alucard’s body seemed to ache for Trevor’s warmth, and he was already trying to push himself up to recapture the hunter’s lips.

“Hold on,” Trevor had to huff at him; he adjusted his position to be on his knees again, so he could hoist Alucard’s legs over his shoulders. There was some modesty involved, the blanket was covering Alucard a bit but it was damp from the water and Trevor wanted so badly to throw it aside. Instead, he grabbed for one of the other pillows, shoving them beneath Alucard’s waist to prop him up as best he could.

Alucard did not protest, and if he felt vulnerable or ashamed it was smothered by the obvious lust shared between the two of them. 

It wasn’t much, but it was the best Trevor could do. It would grant Alucard some reprieve from the awkward position, and it would take some of the pressure off of each of them to maintain it. His hands roamed Alucard’s cool flesh and it was surprising--welcome, though--to feel the warmth that radiated from him. He could see pink tints to his flesh where there had previously only been a perfect, pale complexion.

He explored everything he could in that moment, staring down into Alucard’s hazy, golden eyes. His legs were smooth, sans the healing injuries. Trevor’s fingers glided from his hips to his knees, and traced back up his inner thighs.

He teased the flesh there, watching as Alucard eased into the mattress. He could feel Alucard’s legs tense on his shoulders, only to realize that it wasn’t him bracing for something uncomfortable. His _toes_ were curling. 

Trevor felt a wave of relief flood through him. Alucard was receptive, albeit a little needy; he was already trying to pull Trevor down to kiss him again.

Trevor couldn’t deny him; their tongues swirled for a moment and one of his hands glided to the dhampir’s backside, tracing over the muscle, testing.

Alucard let him. Alucard hooked his ankles behind Trevor’s back and drew him closer, with so much force that Trevor was worried he was going to hurt himself.

He grunted. “Pace yourself.”

“Pace _yourself_ ,” Alucard muttered back. “Hurry up.”

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Trevor huffed, pressing a finger to Alucard’s entrance and teasing the flesh around it as if to prove it. He didn’t know where Alucard hurt, only knew that in this moment he had an erection to rival the dhampir’s, and Alucard kept pressing closer.

But then, Alucard had wanted to be punished before.

Maybe now he wanted to be loved.

If Trevor had known this was going to happen he might have trimmed his nails, washed himself properly. Might have done a lot of things differently. All he could do was show Alucard the tenderness he deserved.

He had no lubrication, all he could do was tease the ring of muscles at Alucard’s entrance, softening what he could. He slid one finger in slowly, as easily as he could manage. If there was to be pain, he distracted Alucard in every way he could. 

Their lips were together again and their tongues twisted, exploring needily as if there was still something unknown to find. His hand moved from the man’s soft thighs, and for as much as he had enjoyed teasing the sensitive flesh there, he moved to palm at Alucard’s erection.

His suddenly _leaking_ erection.

Alucard shuddered and tried to press closer but he was pinned between Trevor and the bed, and Trevor was fighting the instinct to stretch Alucard quickly. He wanted in him, wanted to feel some sort of relief.

He felt sharp nails tickling over his arm, down his side. Alucard could not see what he was groping for, but when he found Trevor’s erection he clumsily wrapped his hand around it, massaging until he could get into a decent enough position to pump the hardened flesh.

Trevor could have lost control right there and a hungry growl reverberated deep in his throat.

Patience. He needed patience.

He tried to pace himself in his ministrations to Alucard in hopes that the dhampir might replicate, but he was doing too much at once, focusing on too many things.

He was a hunter, multitasking should have been second nature, but all he wanted to do was watch Alucard’s eyes glaze over in pleasure and need.

One finger was in, curling and stretching and making way for two fingers.

Two became three, and three four. Alucard accommodated each with relative ease despite the lack of lubrication and Trevor told himself it was because he was so damned good at this and not because Alucard might have already been stretched before now.

When his fingers stopped moving, it was Alucard who broke their kiss. “If you take too long, Sypha will be here before we finish.”

Sypha would never let him hear the end of this. He could hear her teasing already, whether she meant it or not.

This was his moment with Alucard. It was something they would share, together.

“I’m going,” he huffed, drawing his fingers out. He wiped them off half heartedly on the sheet, soaked already with sweat and water, and positioned himself at Alucard’s entrance once more.

The flush on Alucard’s cheeks was more alluring than any dream he’d had, and even if his body was marred and healing, Trevor could not help but think he was more beautiful than anyone he’d ever seen. Alucard pushed his palm against Trevor’s his erection, as if dismissing it, urging it away. Urging Trevor to get on with it.

Trevor positioned himself, eyes locked on Alucard’s face. He could feel the warmth, craved it. Alucard was looking at the ceiling, waiting.

“Look at me,” Trevor commanded. 

Alucard blinked, brows knit, and then allowed his golden eyes to glide down to Trevor inquisitively.

“...I want you to remember _me_. And _only_ me. Only this.”

It was only when Alucard nodded, still confused, that Trevor began to slide in. Slowly, and with more patience than he’d ever had in his life. He waited for Alucard to adjust, waited for his body to accept him. 

When Alucard relaxed around him, when he’d pushed himself all the way in, he let out a soft sigh. Alucard was biting his lip so hard he’d drawn blood. He had goosebumps on his heated flesh and his erection was _twitching_ beneath Trevor’s hand. He stroked, slowly, trying to ease Alucard to full pleasure while he worked towards his own.

He began to pull out, halfway, and then moved back in. The action was repeated, each time drawing out a little further and pushing in a little faster.

Alucard _mewled_ , and then when Trevor wasn’t giving him enough attention, _growled_ as he thrust into Trevor’s hand.

A beautiful beast, with eyes that demanded as much as they plead.

Trevor’s calloused hand was moving again, in tune with the thrusts. He couldn’t even remember the pain of glass in his hand only an hour ago; Alucard beneath him just felt _right_.

He was at his peak in what might have been seconds or moments or hours. Time stopped with Alucard. He wanted to see the end of this, wanted to hear Alucard scream out his name. He wanted this to last forever.

He felt the pressure rise from his abdomen, into his chest, his throat. His body was screaming for release, but he refused to give into it before Alucard found his own.

The blonde’s back arched and his eyes fluttered shut. Trevor did not demand he look at him again, not when Alucard was enjoying himself so much. He was so distracted by the expression on his face that he did not realize Alucard had reached his peak until he felt warmth spill over his hand.

Alucard’s muscles were clenching around him and he shuddered, exhaling as he finally gave into his own pleasure.

He stroked Alucard slowly, easing him out of the rush of pleasure even as Alucard’s body tightened needily around him. They rode out their orgasms together, and Trevor stopped stroking Alucard only when his body stopped spasming around him.

He didn’t pull out immediately; instead, he slumped forward, letting Alucard’s legs down gently as he adjusted himself to rest his forehead in Alucard’s wet hair.

The air was filled with the sound of soft pants that slowly eased into something a little more relaxed. When Trevor finally began to pull out of Alucard, the dhampir gripped his wrist. “Don’t go.”

A commanding plea.

“I’m not leaving. I’m staying right here, by your side.”

“Do you promise?” Stern, but almost afraid.

“I promise.”

“Forever,” he demanded. “Promise me forever, Trevor Belmont.”

Humans didn’t have forever. They both knew that. But Alucard was naive sometimes, and Trevor would spend all of _his_ forever with him, if he could.

“I promise forever, Alucard.”

Only then did he relax his grip and let Trevor pull out of him. For a moment, Trevor lay on the bedsheets, sore and tired and glowing. He still wasn’t sure this wasn’t just a dream, but you don’t get _cold_ in dreams, or hungry.

“...Except, actually. I do need to go.”

Alucard’s eyes snapped to him. “What?” he asked flatly, like he was ready for some betrayal.

“...The blanket’s filthy, Alucard. You can mock me all you want, but I’m not sleeping here without a blanket. What _if_ Sypha finds us?”

There was a light in Alucard’s eyes, one that made Trevor’s heart pound. One that hadn’t been there when he’d first seen him today. One that might not have even been there before they’d left him. “Then she will find two very happy men.”

“Happy?” Trevor tested, watching him for a few seconds.

Alucard nodded, uncertainly at first and then with more confidence.

“...I seem to find my happiness when you are here. I find only despair when you are gone. I don’t know what to make of it.”

“Mm.” Trevor nodded but rose still, adjusting his pants just slightly to tuck himself away. There was a chest across the room beneath some decorative pillows and he found himself glad to find the linens he was looking for there instead of having to steal some from another room. He shook the blankets out and draped them over Alucard, leaning in for a soft kiss--just a brush of lips on lips--before he returned to his side of the bed and tucked himself in. “It means we should do this more often.”

“Oh?”

“You might like it a little more when you’re all healed up. And you should see what I can do when I’ve got _all_ my blood.”

Alucard’s lips pursed. “...You know, I’m not sure I want to know.”

Trevor laughed softly, relief replacing his worry. He reached beneath the blanket to take Alucard’s hand. He nuzzled into the pillow, into the crook of Alucard’s neck, and said softly into his ear. “I think you do.”

Alucard’s fingers eased into Trevor’s hand, stroking the back of it softly. “I won’t say it often. But, perhaps you’re right. I do,” he answered softly.

Trevor’s eyes were closed and he wondered how much adrenaline he’d burned out just to make it this far. He was running on empty. Sleep was fogging his mind, and he could tell by Alucard’s tired breathing that he must not be so far from it either. “I think you love me, too.”

A grunt, but Alucard lips moved into a soft smile. “...I won’t say you’re right twice in one day.”

“You don’t have to,” Trevor said, planting one last kiss on Alucard’s neck. “I love you too.”


End file.
